


Can We Stay In Bed Together, Forever?

by Aesops_Tables



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, between ep 180 and 181, but he only gets like 2 paragraphs of description and then its all jonmartin fluff, idc what next week's episode tells us. this happened. its canon, mag 180 spoilers (kind of), salesa is a sexy sexy man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:09:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26654212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aesops_Tables/pseuds/Aesops_Tables
Summary: "They didn't know what time it was, but it didn't matter. The bedroom air was crisp and cold, but their bed was warm and soft. The world was scary, and they weren't sure who they could trust anymore, but they still had each other."
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 107





	Can We Stay In Bed Together, Forever?

Jon blinked as he stared at Mikaele Salesa. He had never seen the man in person before, and he looked much different from how he had pictured him

He was facing the piano, playing those delicate notes that felt like audible honey to Jon's ears, so he couldn't get a proper look at his face, but he almost didn't need to. There was so much character just in the way he held himself and the sliver of an expression he saw on his profile. 

His broad shoulders stayed perfectly in line with the rest of his back, showing off his impeccable posture, and his thick, dark fingers moved so gracefully across the keys Jon almost felt like he was being hypnotized. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he concentrated on the sheet music in front of him, and you could see just a hint of his tongue poking out between his lips as he focused.

It was all so peaceful. Mikaele might've been focused, but he certainly wasn't aggressive with his playing. And the sweet melody formed by the notes seemed to slowly flow into a lullaby to Jon as his eyelids slowly began to droop.

He tried so hard to fight it. He really did. He was in front of _Mikaele Salesa_ , a man almost as notorious in the archives as Jurgen Leitner was. He couldn't fall asleep here. Not now. Especially not with Annabelle here, because who knows what she's up to. And then what will Martin do, he can't just leave Martin to possibly fight Mikaele _and_ Annabelle off all by himself. And what if--

Jon didn't get to finish his thoughts. It all happened in the blink of an eye, almost as soon as he and Martin sat down. Their bodies finally gave up on them and had succumbed to the sleep that they so desperately needed.

Jon didn't open his eyes again until an amber ray of warm sunshine hit his face. He winced and snapped his eyes shut, trying to simultaneously fight off the sleep and fight off the consciousness. His mind was groggy and his face felt warm and-- was that drool that he felt against his cheek? _Okay, that's gross,_ he thought to himself as he slowly moved to sit up.

And that was when he realized the weight wrapped around his shoulder. He didn't notice it until it was too late and dropped back down onto the bed. His first thought was _It was a trap, and now I'm tied to this bed,_ but then he realized that the rope he was tied up with was rather large, soft, and warm. He looked over his shoulder and saw Martin's face, relaxed as he had ever seen him, eyes closed, hair ruined, mouth ever so slightly open, taking in and letting out soft breaths of air. His arm was wrapped around Jon's shoulder holding him so tightly one might think that someone had tried to drag Jon away last night and Martin was still protecting him from it happening again. 

Jon stared at the sleeping Martin in awe. After their stay in the cottage, Jon had probably seen this sight at least a hundred times. And yet he was still blown away by how _beautiful_ Martin is. Before he could even really think about it, Jon reached his hand out and gently held Martin's face.

In that moment, it was only them. There was no giant fearpocolypse torturing billions of poor souls, there was no man sitting in a panopticon, waiting to be killed, there was no trauma from facing and conquering the 14 horrors, there was no regret or sorrow from losing his closest friends. No, there was none of that. In that moment, there was only Jon, and there was only Martin, and there was only Jon and Martin.

Too soon, it seemed, Martin stirred, and cracked his eyes open. He yawned and stretched his arms out lazily before he seemed to realize Jon's presence. He turned over again to face Jon, and he smiled.

Oh God, _that smile._

His smile was like lemonade on a hot summer's day, like reading by the fire as the winter wind howls outside, like finishing a great book and lying down for an hour just to savor those final words. 

His smile was perfect and sweet and brought forward such a kind warmth in your heart, you thought you might melt.

Jon smiled back. He knew his smile wasn't anything like Martin's, and would never elicit such an intense love in your heart, but it was better than nothing. It was a smile, just a smile, but a smile from Jon was rare these days.

"Oh God, you're perfect," Martin whispered, and Jon could see the love in his eyes. Love that he wasn't quite sure he deserved. "Can I...Can I kiss you?"

Jon chuckled "You make it sound like we're some awkward teenage couple...but I do appreciate you asking. Yes, Martin, you can kiss me."

Martin cupped Jon's face and kissed him so sweetly Jon thought he might get a cavity. It was so soft, so gentle, and yet so packed with affection, and Jon almost didn't know how to handle it. He could feel the tears swelling up in his eyes, his heart bursting with love. He found himself holding the hand that was cupping his cheek, pulling him closer, rubbing sweet circles under his eye.

The kiss didn't end until Martin's thumb wiped up a small tear that had escaped Jon's eye. He leaned back, still holding Jon's face, examining for any problems.

"Are you okay?" He asked. And honestly, that question was what broke him. 

"Yeah, I just--" his voice wavered as he kept getting hit with these strong pangs of emotion. "I just remembered how much I love you." He buried his face in the crook between Martin's neck and shoulder. "But Helen was right, I really don't deserve you."

"Hey, _hey_! Stop that! You do deserve me."

He fished Jon's face up from its hiding place and kept him from avoiding eye contact. "And even though you don't believe that, because I know you don't, you're still trying _so hard_ _to._ You want so badly to be a good partner and honestly it's working. Don't undersell yourself Jon."

If anything, that just made Jon even more emotional, although for a completely different reason. So they sat there for some while, Jon being held in Martin's arms as Martin wiped up his tears and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. There was one phrase in particular that he uttered, one that Jon really needed to hear:

_"I love you. And I love you because you earned it."_

He cried even more after Martin whispered that, but eventually he managed to calm down, and they ended up falling back asleep together, Jon held tight in Martin's arms. 

They didn't know what time it was, but it didn't matter. The bedroom air was cold and crisp, but their bed was warm and soft. The world was scary, and they weren't sure who they could trust anymore, but they still had each other. 


End file.
